Rainy Day

It's quite aggravating sometimes when the weather conflicts with someone's attitude. A sunny day outside could be contrasting to a horrible murder taking place down below. Or a drizzling, miserable day could be seen as something much better to a mother who just received word that she's pregnant after trying for weeks.

However, that wasn't the case for one family. Their mood reflected the weather exactly; a downpour of gray rain with murky skies and chances of a severe thunderstorm.

And as lightning flashed through the windows of Capsule Corporation, Bulma sat in the kitchen; face glazed, expression calm, hands folded in her lap, eyes forward. She had been sitting there like that for more then a few hours, seemingly staring off into space, dressed in all black. Although she hadn't moved an inch, she still saw the figure in her peripheral vision and called softly, "Vegeta?"

The man came out of the shadows and crossed to stand in the dimly lit kitchen, thunder rolling off the air outside. The house was deadly quiet and eerie making him seem almost ominous in his dark clothes. His face was placid and he simply stared at his wife who hadn't even turned to look at him.

"Is there something you wanted?" Bulma asked, eyes unblinking. Her voice was soft and almost sympathetic as if she sensed that her husband was distressed and she couldn't help. And she couldn't. Not now. She had been strong for her kids, for her mother and so she considered this her time to grieve. She was sorry if the man was feeling ignored but she couldn't take care of everyone all the time.

He spoke quietly, "Are you coming to bed?"

His tone shook her up enough to make her drag her eyes to stare into his. He flinched slightly at how soulless her blue eyes looked in their sockets. "I'll be there in a minute."

He nodded slowly but made no move to leave. He just simply stood there. There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other before Bulma broke gaze and continued to stare aimlessly into the darkness of her home once more. Vegeta suddenly felt useless and angry. He had never been good at dealing with things like this. He didn't know how to comfort her but damn it, he wanted to. He wanted to show her that he cared about how she felt.

He just didn't know how to go about it and he wasn't sure that anything he said could make her feel better anyway.

She had looked so strong, so composed at the funeral. She hadn't shed a tear although everyone else had, excluding Vegeta of course. He hadn't been sad about it really...more so, he had been disappointed. And, even though him and the man weren't always on the best terms, he wouldn't have placed death upon him.

Vegeta's concern only went out for Bulma. He considered it strange the way she acted earlier and wondered what she was feeling. He hadn't had a chance to speak to her and if he had, he didn't think he would have for the simple fact that he feared he would say the wrong words. She never tried to keep up a facade to please anyone in the past and he wondered why she had started on this dark day.

"How are the kids?"

Her sudden question caught him off guard and Vegeta slightly raised his eyebrows. "They're fine. Both asleep."

Bulma smiled but it didn't look happy. It looked fake and shaky. "That's good." She whispered. "That's very good."

He was silent.

Her hands tightened in her lap. "Maybe we can take a...trip tomorrow." She turned to look at her husband once more, her expression revealing only indifferent contentment. "Take them to a fair or an amusement park. Wouldn't that be fun?"

Vegeta's mouth twitched at the idea. And, on any other day, at any of time, in any other atmosphere, he would have viciously disagreed and turned the offer down haughtily. But now he uttered, "If you'd like."

Bulma smiled. "I would like that very much."

Then she stood up. He watched in curiosity as she turned around slowly, walked to the sink and started to unconsciously wash the plates that were piled in it. The display confused and worried him. Everything she had done today had seemed to have that effect. She just wasn't making sense. Something was definitely wrong with her and, despite the obvious, Vegeta couldn't pinpoint what.

He didn't know how to find out either. Although she had put up a steel barrier that seemingly kept her calm and indifferent, she still seemed so fragile to him. As if the slightest outspoken word or haphazard touch would break her into a million pieces.

A shatter erupted into the gloomy silence, echoing off of the thunder booming and Vegeta broke from his thoughts to glance at her. He narrowed his eyes as he took in the smashed plate lying on the tiled floor before the blue haired woman's feet. He looked upwards at her face and, right then and there, the answer to his questions hit him faster then a ki ball to the stomach.

Bulma's eyes were squeezed shut, large tears running down her face. Her hands were clenched, her feet were spread apart and she fell to her knees as her shoulders sagged pitifully. At first sight, you'd guess she was having a break down.

And your guess would be correct.

Vegeta wasn't even aware he had moved until he heard Bulma sob mournfully into the front of his shirt, shaking with each breath, holding onto him while he wrapped his arms around her and crushed her to his chest.

"I tried." She whispered in a cry-mutter that was almost inaudible. "I tried so hard Vegeta-I-" Her voice caught. "I didn't want...-I-" She pushed back to look into his eyes and he felt his heart break at her disheveled, red face. "I wanted to be the strong one. For everyone. For my mom, for my children, for my friends, for you." More tears fell onto her shirt. "Because if I hadn't been...no one else would."

He knew. He understood what she meant and felt all the more guilty for it. Everyone had leaned on Bulma for support in this trying time. Everyone had cried on her shoulder, been comforted by her words.

But who did she have to lean on?

"You don't have to be strong for me." Vegeta told her as she burrowed her head back into his shirt. And it was true. All she had to do was let it all out, hold nothing back, lay her burdens on him and he'd gladly accept all the baggage. If only for her.

So he stood there, crouched down, his wife crying and heaving into his shirt with his arms around her for support. He stayed with her until she calmed, wiped her tears away and whispered she wanted to go to bed. He helped her to the bedroom, watched her crawl onto it and collapse almost miserably. He slid in next to her and obliged to her wishes when she asked him to hold her. He listened to her mutter to him about how much she missed her father and how she wished he was still with them.

Then she cried herself to sleep in his arms.

Not really a happy ending but it was alright...right? ^_^ Hope you liked.